We rolled into the parking lot of Playland Park accompanied by an encroaching frost, but winter’s icy grip hadn’t discouraged thrill seekers who were lined up outside St. Lucifer’s Haunted Asylum. It was a heart-warming sight and the shot in the arm John and I needed in our quest for a record-setting night of fright.

While we waited in line we were delighted by a gruesome twosome who entertained guests with mild jump scares and a dash of humor. The first character was a sizable man in overalls and a cowboy hat and suffered from a curious condition in which a hog’s head protruded from his stomach. His cohort was a brightly dressed clown who carried with him a ventriloquist dummy with a punk rock style. The little guy sported multi-colored, wildly spiked hair, a vest, camouflage pants and a pair of black Chuck’s. His face too was painted as a clown. It was clear that these guys loved to mess with customers but to their credit they obliged any time somebody asked them to pose for a picture including yours truly.

Through my own set of Chuck’s my toes grew numb and after a short but pleasant conversation with the owner of the joint, John and I were admitted to St. Lucifer’s Haunted Asylum.

Our journey into the madhouse known as St. Lucifer’s began in a box — an elevator to be precise, but this was no ordinary elevator. Even by haunted house standards this condemned transporter may be unique; fitted as it was with a peculiar sound system and one heart-pumping surprise. St. Lucifer’s spin on the so called Hellivator is an excellent way to send customers into the dark and served as one of the highlights of our experience.

Once free from the wild ride we pounded the halls of the haunted asylum and found that a slimy layer of frost had coated the floor throughout St. Lucifer’s. The slippery hallways and bone-chilling air created something of a surreal atmosphere; almost as if we had witnessed the ghost of the haunt season. The conditions put an odd thought into my head, that perhaps we weren’t allowed to be there, as if we had trespassed. Yeah, an early blast of winter will do some strange things to the mind of a hardcore haunter.

Determined not to be the next helpless souls permanently admitted to St. Lucifer’s and with a hearty fire that burned in our hearts we mustered the courage to forge ahead where we enjoyed an infinity hall created with the aid of light and mirrors and also appreciated a length of wall from which jutted numerous pairs of legs — storage for those who had expired within the confines of the haunted asylum.

It was obvious that the weather had sapped a lot of energy from the cast. Everyone gave an honest effort but it seemed the edge was off the performance and I couldn’t fault them because it was that cold. However, true to the spirit of the haunt season, there were those with thicker hides who dug down deep and delivered. There was a busty nurse who earned our respect simply because she wore a skimpy outfit in such conditions. There was also a short orderly who offered us some medication from her metallic tray and as we would find out, this particular pill could be administered rectally. Last but not least, there was Jimmy an unseen specter who engaged us in a spine-tingling game of hide-n-seek before we escaped St. Lucifer’s by way of an uber-tight womb of doom.

Rating: 3.25 stars

The wait for 13 Feet Under was much shorter and for that we were thankful. An armed guard decked out in military gear briefed us on the situation inside the area we were about to enter, but his instructions were cut short when the chained doors behind us began to sway from the weight of the infected that had amassed on the other side.

13 Feet Under utilized the concept of a military containment zone to further the story and drive the pace of the haunted attraction. It was a highly effective approach as it created an environment in which it was easy to suspend disbelief. We found ourselves actively slinking around passages in an attempt to conceal ourselves from the infected, varying our speed depending on the situation.

We came to a checkpoint near the halfway point of the attraction where another guard was stationed; in her left hand she held a chain. She rattled off a lot of information about the infected and how we should proceed if we planned to survive the ordeal but by attention was diverted by what was on the other end of the chain. A dark-haired infected full of sarcasm and a devil-may-care attitude grappled with the restraint and if I’m being completely honest, the diseased dame was making eyes at yours truly. I held up a gloved hand to test the veracity of the claims that were being made by the female soldier, besides I wasn’t so sure I didn’t want to be bitten by this particular infected as she possessed a dark allure. She locked eyes, leaned in slowly, bared her teeth and sunk them straight into my hand.

I was shocked and impressed and a little turned on (but not too turned on because it was freezing). She pulled back careful not to break eye contact, raised her eyebrows and flashed a devilish smirk. I turned to John and professed my disbelief as never before had a haunt actor taken the chomp test so far.

Stunned and more than a little enamored, John and I reluctantly trudged forward with my seemingly infected hand in tow. We ducked through open sewage pipes flush with grates that sent light from above streaming eerily through the slates. We rounded on a choke point and were intercepted by a wide-eyed survivor who advised us to halt for a moment before he noisily rushed us ahead. Before we had a chance to contemplate the need to hurry, a massive snake uncoiled from behind a wall and nearly took a bite of its own. In our haste we lost both the snake and the kind stranger.

In the distance, through a series of tall and winding wrought-iron fencing, we spotted a camper. Was it a safe haven from the infected? Was there medical personnel on hand that could deal with my love bite? Such thoughts were pushed aside when we were forced to participate in an impromptu game of red light/green light. In our delirium, we may have applied a loose interpretation of the rules and then fled like insects when the chatting of a chainsaw chewed through the frigid night air.